Not For Profit/For Prophecy

zero: Eve

God’s sticky sauce on the spare rib
Adam needn’t wank off every night
not now
not now I’m here named maimed incomplete no cock
Herr Freud has a hair stuck to the roof of his mouth

Adam gets lost in my wound

I eat the fruit
I eat him
and Him

minus one: Black

it’s evening again always evening day failing moon pulsing
I come into my own in the night

1 from Middle English blak(e) ‘black‘ (Old English blæc, blaca), a nickname given from the earliest times to a swarthy or dark-haired man. 2 Scottish and English: from Old English blac ‘pale’, ‘fair’, i.e. precisely the opposite meaning to 1, and a variant of Blake

I’m named after a man
but let’s forget that
for an hour

can you feel my hand on your thigh
I’ll kiss your lips
and then your lips
I murdered Adam so we can run away together
we’ll name each other like Adam named the animals
we’ll be self-made

can you feel my hands on your breasts
I’m moulding you
my mouth breathes life into you
now make me

the night’s gone mad

too much time spent talking about it chewing it over running our tongues over its hard seams it’s a dead thing it tastes like a battery like metal why did we ever give it time why did we ever try to deal with it we didn’t make it he did